


5 times Samot said thank you and 1 time he apologized

by PFDiva



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Five Plus One, Gen, Season: Spring in Hieron, Spring in Hieron Spoilers, grieving and sappiness and more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 12:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19251232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: Samot makes time to talk to the party.





	5 times Samot said thank you and 1 time he apologized

**Author's Note:**

> This is so much spoilers for SiH 33. Do not read if you haven't listened to that unless you want to get So Spoilered.

One:

There was no missing the return of the heroes who'd slain the dragon. The news preceded them by several hours, and they may as well have had a parade greeting them. Their loved ones, as well.

Rosana and Benjamin quickly bundled Hadrian off, but he was injured and looked unwell, anyway. Emmanuel greeted Lem, and the pair embraced before walking off together. Hella and Adaire slowly walked together, and Hella looked unwell. Samot could see the touch of death on her, and something else. He'd surely find out more later. Sunder came for Uklan, who was still chained, but who would begrudge Sunder coming for him?

Fero stayed long enough to exchange words with Red Jack and Blue Jay, then turned away alone. Always alone, that one. Blue Jay got swept up into a hug by Red Jack, which they enthusiastically returned, then briefly spoke with Throndir, who looked lackluster, at best, and Ephrim, who looked much as he always did: Orderly, tired, withdrawn.

Samot decided now was as good a time as any.

Red Jack noticed Samot first and boomed a greeting, "Lord Samot! Have you heard tell of our victory?"

"I have," Samot affirmed, offering Red Jack a smile. The greeting had drawn Ephrim and Corsica's attention, both turning towards Samot, while Throndir and Blue Jay lingered behind them. Samot looked Throndir in the eyes and waited.

When Throndir stepped closer, Samot looked between him, Ephrim, and Red Jack, "You all have done something few manage." He looked at Red Jack, "And you have done it twice." Red Jack guffawed, loud and pleased, familiarly slapping Samot on the shoulder. Samot let him, then looked at Throndir and Ephrim again.

"This is no small thing you have done. Hieron is better for your work."

"It came too late," Throndir blurted, guilt in his voice, his face flushing when everyone's attention turned to him. "The Advocate destroyed so much already."

Samot put both hands on Throndir's shoulders, and waited until he looked up, "It will not destroy any more. That matters. Even to me." Throndir looked doubtful, but he nodded and Samot stepped back to look at Ephrim, who bobbed his head respectfully.

"We were happy to do it. If not us, then who?"

Samot inclined his head to Ephrim, then to Corsica as well before giving Blue Jay a brief, friendly smile.

He turned away after giving Throndir and Red Jack one last look, and didn't look back.

~*~*~*~*~

Two:

Samot found Lem in a library a few days later, poring over books and searching for...something. More information, Samot supposed.

"May I help?"

Lem looked up in surprise, then scrambled to his feet, babbling a greeting and an apology all in one as he came around the table. Samot held up a hand to stave off the flood of words.

"That's not necessary, archivist. Please. What are you working on?"

Lem hesitated, awkwardly hovering at the corner of the table, but slowly retreating as Samot advanced, until he was seated again. "It's nothing, really. Just something to occupy my time."

"Researching the pattern?" Samot asked. Lem lit up.

"You know semiotics?"

"Not well," Samot admitted, "But well enough to know about the pattern."

That seemed to open the floodgates, and Samot listened to Lem wax emotional about the pattern, his work in Aubade, with Samothes sometimes.

Samot didn't know what kind of expression he wore, because Lem's words suddenly stumbled to a halt.

"I..I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine," Samot assured Lem, reaching out to take his hand.

"--If I brought up bad memories, I just."

" _Lem._ " Lem fell silent. "I spoke to him. I was able to speak with him. Because of you. And then you went out with the others on top of that."

"Well," Lem said, shifting uncomfortably, "We couldn't just let it destroy. Everything."

"There are many who could. You have my gratitude." Samot squeezed Lem's hand. Lem looked uncomfortable for a moment, then smiled.

"Right."

~*~*~*~*~

Three:

Samot saw Adaire in the hallways of the Last University and lifted a hand to catch her attention. She stiffly turned towards him, her expression wary as always.

"Adaire," Samot greeted, "Do you have a moment?"

"Not really?" she replied, "I mean, like, I have a minute, but only if it's a short minute, because Hella's not doing so hot, she's got this whole new body thing going on, and it's really kind of a lot."

"Body thing?" Samot asked.

Adaire looked like she'd said something she shouldn't have, then clearly decided she'd live with it, "Uhh, yeah. She, uh. I can't really talk about it because I don't remember anything, but the fight with the cult made Hella sick somehow and in order to fix it, she had to get a new paladine body and I don't quite understand what's going on, but that's the gist of it?"

Guilt cut through Samot like a knife. He'd fixed the battle so they won, but Hella had gotten hurt. A lot. It must have had something to do with that. It was the only thing Adaire could have been talking about.

"I see," Samot said, slow a moment before shaking off his concerns. He couldn't apologize to Hella right now. He was talking to Adaire. "Well, I just wanted to speak with you about the dragon-slaying."

Adaire's entire demeanor opened up then and she didn't smile, but she looked well pleased with herself, "Well, when you've got Hella and Hadrian on your side, that sort of thing is much easier."

"I'm sure you helped," Samot prodded and a small, sly smile spread Adaire's face.

"Maybe a little."

"I just wanted to share my gratitude," he told her, and she nodded.

"No big. We got it done. Anyway…?" She made a gesture past him. He stepped aside to let her through.

~*~*~*~*~

Four:

Hadrian was coming down from Samol's burial place as Samot approached it. His face was scarred, deep gouges of red painfully bright against the brown of his skin.

"Hadrian."

Hadrian startled, looking up at Samot, then guiltily glanced away, more clearly displaying the developing scars on his face. Then he winced, lifting a hand to his face and stopping without touching it.

"How can I help you, my lord?"

Go lie down and rest, Samot did not say. Nor did he offer admiration for Hadrian's hard-won scars.

"You all did very well," Samot decided. "Your strength protected many."

Hadrian's face did something Samot had never seen it do before. The look on it spoke of such grief that Samot ached to hold Hadrian in his arms.

"Not enough," Hadrian replied, his voice hollow and thick with guilt. "We just didn't do enough."

"Throndir said the same thing," Samot gently acknowledged, and some of the hollowness bled out of Hadrian's gaze.

"He's right about that, at least." Hadrian tucked his chin in, "I'm sorry. Rosana is probably waiting for me." He didn't brush past Samot on account of giving Samot a wide, respectful berth, but he was gone before Samot could say more, and he wanted to.

"Oh Samothes," Samot murmured to himself, "I don't think I'm taking as good of care of your paladin as I promised to…"

~*~*~*~*~

Five:

Fero Feritas stood beside the tree when Samol's body had first been buried, staring down at the guitar marking the grave. Samot joined Fero, and the pair stood together in silent mourning for a time. Eventually, Fero broke the silence.

"Wasn't Samol Samothes' father, too?"

"He was," Samot agreed, with an ominous feeling he knew where this was going.

"So if he's Samothes's father and your father, wouldn't that make you and Samothes--?"

"It's different," Samot interrupted, "We're not mortal like you and our son was born from an idea. Deformities aren't really a concern."

Fero harrumphed at Samol's grave. Then.

"It didn't _really_ look like him."

"It's still something noone else could have done."

"Yeah." Fero heaved a sigh then, finally looked at Samot. "Yeah."

~*~*~*~*~

Plus one:

The only thing more abnormal than seeing Hella Varal bedridden was seeing Hella Varal struggling to move around, visibly unhappy and uncomfortable. She was so careful about touching people, careful to avoid bumping into them, and she kept shifting as if settling her clothing about her.

And that was only a few moments' observation in the cafeteria. When Samot found himself catching her arm a few moments later, bearing her weight, he found her very heavy. Not heavy like the woman she was: Tall and dense with muscle. She was an inhuman sort of heavy that had him looking at her with new eyes.

"Lord Samot!" Hella quietly exclaimed, visibly surprised by his presence. He wasn't here often, so it was to be expected.

"Hella Varal," Samot responded, "I believe we need to talk."

She flushed with displeasure, then seemed to notice how much she was leaning on Samot and jerked away.

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Samot assured her, "I'm not mortal after all." He offered her his arm, then. She probably needed the support, but she shook her head.

"I'm good now."

Samot turned the offer into a gesture for her to come with him.

When they have found a private place to sit and converse, Samot rests his elbows on his knees to look at Hella. She fidgets uncomfortably, and Samot understands that motion he took for settling her clothing to be her trying to settle into her skin.

"It's going to be unpleasant for a while," Samot tells her, "The best thing for it is rest and training."

She looks at him, then away, "I don't...serve you now, do I? Because I serve Adelaide and that would be really weird to explain to her and also do?"

Samot huffs out a little laugh, "No. No, you are your own person. As so many paladine are now." He thinks of Tabard's anger, the argument, the departure. He thinks of many things that he didn't know to regret. He didn't build the paladine society, didn't seed it to become what it is. He didn't know it would exist, didn't know that his paladine would become people until it happened. He'd like to blame Charter, but she only found potential that had always been there.

"Lord Samot?"

He realizes that he's been lost in thought and gives Hella a reassuring smile. "Forgive me. What was it you said?"

"Can I die?"

"Yes." She looked relieved, somehow. "It will be more difficult, but it is possible. Though I must now ask you why you've done this. What happened to make this a good idea?"

"You remember the cult?" He remembered the cult. "At the end. When we almost lost at first? Turns out the heat and the dark is kind of a problem even when you do that?" Of course she remembered that. She was the one the change had been centered around. He'd tried so hard to find a better solution.

"I didn't realize you would be hurt so much from it."

She nodded, "Yeah, it was...in my blood. I would have died."

"And now you won't," Samot replied, "Not for a while, anyway."

"Yeah. So, that's everything, I guess?"

He shook his head, "Not quite. I came to offer my apologies for what happened to you. I'm not sorry that I did it, but I'm sorry that you were forced into this choice."

Hella shrugged, "Yeah, me too, but. What happens, happens, I guess? I'm not too broken up about it, I'm just still working on dealing with all the physical stuff. I'll be fine, though."

"If you're sure?"

Hella gave Samot a grin as she got to her feet, "I'm sure."


End file.
